The Witch is Dead?
by TereziPyrope3810
Summary: Teens now, Hansel and Gretel live a life that's filled with PTSD flashbacks and sensitivities. Hansel, obsessed with bodybuilding and pushing his own physical boundaries, is terrified of being unhealthy and often gorges on protein. Gretel, completely paralyzed when in proximity to fire, has to struggle with sleep walking and horrible memories. Will they survive their fears?


_The room was so thick with smoke and screams. My legs wouldn't move, no matter how much I wanted them to. I stood there, in front of the blazing oven, listening to that witch's wretched screams for what seemed like forever. The heat licked at my arms and my face; I was absolutely paralyzed by it. Strange muffled voices were sounding around me, or was it one? I couldn't tell. I could hear my heart thumping loudly and my eyes, unblinking, started to sting from the ash. Finally, after an eternity of being a statue, I could hear my brother calling out my name. "Gretel! Gretel?! Gretel, come free me!" I could blink my eyes and no more were the screams prominent in my ears. Suddenly blood flowed through my legs and I ran to my poor brother…_

"HANSEL!" I screamed out, awaking from a terrible nightmare. Looking around, I realized I had wandered to the kitchen in my unconscious state. I wasn't entirely surprised I had found my way out of my bed; "Slumber Journeying" the doctor had called it. Ever since that eventful day, my brother and I were never the same. Everyone in the main village said the witch put one last curse on my brother and me with her terrible screams, so we'd never get away with killing her. Some nights I have no choice but to believe them.

Feeling the hot tears and cold sweat on my nightgown collar, I slowly sat up off the stone floor. Hoping my father hadn't heard me waken, I tip toed in the low light of the early morn to my brother's room. I winced as the door creaked loudly. Inside, there were things all over the floor: clothes, candlesticks, and thick wooden planks. Hansel was snoring loudly in his bed, a trail of thick drool coming from the corner of his mouth. I stepped over his things to sit at the foot of his bed. Gently shaking his uncovered foot, I attempted to wake him up. Papa would be up soon and Hansel would throw a mighty fit if he hadn't gotten up and lifted his logs before then.

 _The cage bars closed in on me from all sides. Smoke rose with the heat from the fire and I couldn't see my sister anymore. Having no idea if she was alive or dead, I held my breath and squeezed my eyes shut for seconds, then minutes. Time crawled slowly and I started to go insane from the tiny space and my temporary blindness. My bulging stomach felt like I had eaten balloons. My skin was stretched and hurt so terribly bad that I crossed my arms over my abdomen and clutched at my sides. Tears flowed from my clenched eyes and down my inflated cheeks. I opened them, unable to wait any longer. Shaking, I surveyed the room to see the smoke had cleared and I saw my sister staring at the oven. I called for her again, and again until she finally heard my voice. When Gretel ran to me, I puked out a load of pancakes from the sudden anticipation of escaping this horrid prison…_

I felt a hand gripping my foot and shaking it. The unexpected contact startled me and I instinctively kicked hard toward the mass at the edge of my bed. "You roach brain!" a female voice said to me. It took me a few seconds in my grogginess to recognize the voice as my sister's, she continued to speak. "It doesn't seem Papa is awake yet. Hansel, you've slept in too long, it is daylight." I sat up slowly and stared at her, the words not yet sinking in. Her bright orange curls were knotted and stuck to her neck and forehead; she must have had a nightmare as well. After a few more minutes of blurred sight and hazy thoughts, my eyes widened and I jumped out of bed. "Gretel! Why hadn't you woken me sooner?!" I yelled at her, rushing to get dressed and get in my morning exercise. She yelled right back at me, "It's not my responsibility to wake you, Hansel! You better hope all of your noise hasn't startled Papa." Gretel ended her sentence on a softer note and left the room.

In Gretel's absence, I quickly changed from my slumber attire to my scuffed work clothes. I could feel my fuming face was nearly as red as my knotted curls. All morning I tried to forgive Gretel for letting me sleep through my workout time. Guzzling down two glasses of milk and five hot eggs, I contemplated on apologizing for yelling at her. Although, I still thought about how she hadn't woken me.

After my breakfast I still had to wait for Papa to get ready for work. I searched around the house for Gretel, I had decided I wanted to apologize for my cruel behavior earlier. Curled up on the couch with her hair covering her body is how I found her. She heard me approach before I wanted her to, so I didn't have enough time to plan out my side of the conversation. "Come to scream at me some more, dear brother?" She asked me with hot venom spitting off her tongue. "Gretel, I do not want to fight. I know I was wrong. You needn't slip your tongue to me…" She looked at me with narrow eyes. Surveying my words as if they were tangible objects she could inspect every inch of. After a few silent seconds Gretel finally straightened up and relaxed, a wordless invitation for me to sit. Without any more on the subject, I walked over to her and sat. She stared at me with worry in her bright emerald eyes. "You know, Hansel… I believe all of this pushing and over-working is making you so irritable…if you'd just –""NO, SISTER! I WILL NOT!" That did it. How dare she suggest I stop working?! How dare this mindless fool of a girl give ME advice?! I looked at her with fire in my eyes and she looked back with pure fear. My patience had snapped.

I heard the door to Papa's room open then close and I was storming out the house in a flash. With nothing but my anger and my adrenaline fueling me, I fumed on into the forest. The path Papa and I always took was clear enough so I took it; Papa would catch up eventually. My thoughts were jumbled at best and my vision tinted red. Why would my sister, of all people in this world, suggest I stop building? She understands more than anyone why I need to be healthy.

I honestly hadn't meant to make Hansel angry. I've been worried about him lately. Every day I see him wake earlier than the sun to push himself until he's screaming and crying from the burn… I can't take it anymore; my poor brother is going to die from this disease. Even though it hurts me though, I do understand why he's doing this, it's for the same reason I refuse to step near any type of stove or fire.

Papa walked up to me with a worried look on his face. "Oh, Papa, if you don't stop worrying, your face is going to be scrunched like Madame Radley's challenged old dog." He smiled at that. Madame Radley puts the welfare of that old mutt before her own work at the bakery. I've told her myself that thing looks like it ran face-first into a pan, I did. "Grets, you don't think I'd look good as an old flat-face?" "No, Papa!"

We both laughed and then the laughter faded away into seriousness. "Gretel, why must you fight with your brother so much?" He looked at me with sad old eyes, I couldn't help but feel sorry for all that our troubles have put him through. "I don't, Father. It's just… just… I'm so worried he'll die!" My voice cracked on that last dreadful word and I couldn't hold back the flooding in my eyes. Papa came over and held me for a while–I lost track of time–until I stopped crying. When the tears finally subsided, he leaned back, wiped my face clean and stood up. "I'll see you later, Grets. Don't get yourself into trouble, understand?" I nodded silently and smiled at him. "Good day at work, Father."

After Papa left, I had nothing to do–just like any other day. There was no way I was going to cook any food that wasn't already cooked, so I shuffled lightly into the kitchen, sticking myself to the wall furthest from the stove and nearest to the icebox. I heaved it open and inside I found a small package wrapped up in cloth. Curiosity overtook my manners as I plucked it out of the icebox and set it on the counter. Not sure if this was just some stupid prank that Hansel had pulled, I left the icebox open in case I needed to fling this object back into it.

" _Now, children, lay yourselves down by the fire and rest, we will go into the forest and cut some wood. When we have done, we will come back and fetch you away." Our stepmother said to my sister and me with her dry voice. We both knew that's not what she'd wanted to tell us. Gretel and I shared a glance then looked back at her before we nodded and watched her waddle away. "Come on Grets… We should find a log to drag over here so we can sit on it." That poor girl was already starting to tear up but she nodded and looked around for a good direction to head toward. I looked around as well and already the sun was moving steadily above us. "Gretel, this way?" I looked back at her and she was gone. I called out her name and listened for her but I could hear nothing. My stomach started to grumble and my eyes started to water. Not knowing what to do, I just sat down, scratching into the tree next to me every time I counted to one-hundred. After twenty-four scratches, I finally heard rustling in the bushes –along with huffing and groaning. I jumped up and ran to the noise to find my sister, red in the face, pushing and shoving on a rather large log._

A tap on my shoulder made me shout out and jump. I turned around, expecting my dry-mouthed stepmother, only to find Papa standing behind me with deep worry lines in his face. After a long while of stomping through the woods, I'd stumbled across mine and Gretel's first night camp. Still out of it, I turned back around to see twenty-four jagged lines etched into a tree. "Did you sit down to wait for your old father?" Papa chuckled, although looked at me with the same lines on his face. I shook my head to clear out the old memories and boomed at him with laughter. "You old toad! I got tired just from waiting for your creaky legs to catch up!" He smiled and relaxed a bit, then so did I. Papa always knew how to cheer me up, and I always knew how to make him worry just a bit less. We probably wouldn't be able to live without one another.

Setting off into the woods, off the path, Papa and I carried our lumbering tools. After a rather short while, Papa needed me to carry his tools as well. "Oh just cricked my neck last night, Son, it is alright." he'd said, I didn't believe him. We trudged along through weeds, bushes, and thorns to find the perfect size tree. We looked at each other, then looked at the magnificent trunk and marveled for a moment before getting to work. About a quarter of the way through, Papa realized he had forgotten the landing ribbon. [A landing ribbon is a wide strip of cloth with handles at each side that we lay down on the ground for the tree to land on; it makes it much easier to carry the thing home.] I stepped back from the oversized dandelion and looked at it, sizing it up, and then looking at myself. Shrugging, I shouted up at my father, "I think I could just catch it! It doesn't seem too big! I just figure we would do it in sections?!" Papa looked down at me, contemplating for a moment, then shrugged and shouted back, "You've done it with smaller trees before, I don't see why not!" Nodding, I stood into place as he chopped away at the top.

I heard the creak before I saw the top of the tree falling toward me. I'm not sure what had happened in the last few minutes, maybe spacing out? I looked up just in time to notice a huge branch jutting out and pointing right at my chest. With barely any time to move, I tried sidestepping to get out of the way but I miscalculated… I felt a sharp pain and everything went black.

When Papa came home, I was not expecting him to be carrying a body. I had screamed and cried after my legs failed to keep me up. My brother… I knew his eyes were too big for his muscles, he was just too obsessed to realize it. His face was the most unbearable part; it looked like that old dog. For hours I have been rocking in my bed. My brother is everything to me and I never had a chance to make amends. He had taken the time to make me breakfast this morning and put it in the icebox for me. All I did was make him believe I didn't understand him…

After what seemed like an eternity, my wet, stinging eyes finally drooped shut. I lied there with my eyes closed for a while before actually drifted into unconsciousness. Images came into focus and I wasn't in bed anymore…

 _Hansel and I were walking for the forest for quite a long time before we started to smell wonderful scents. We looked at each other, his eyes were gleaming and I'm sure mine were too. For some reason, I'm not sure why, I felt a twinge of sadness wash over me as I looked at him. "Come on Gretel! There must be someone living out here!" He shouted and started running. I ran after him, my stomach growled loudly in protest but I decided to keep running anyway. I figured it would be worth it when we found that mouthwatering smell. My brother and I broke through a wall of bushes and thorns to stumble upon a glorious, no, magnificent… no, stupendous gingerbread house. It had sugar windows and a gumdrop pathway. The lawn smelled of lemon water and the fence looked like peanut brittle. Hansel looked back at me with happiness filling his eyes and pointed to the window, "We will set to work on that, and have a good meal." My stomach growled loudly at the word. "I will eat a bit of the roof, and you Gretel, can eat some of the window, it will taste sweet." We nodded to each other and ran at the house, I popped the window out of its place in the wall and took a bite of it. I expected it to taste sweet and start dissolving in my mouth, instead I tasted blood. My tongue burned and screamed in pain and my stomach felt like knives…_

"PAPA! HELP!" I screamed as loud as my blood filled mouth would let me. It was so much that I was gargling and choking on it. My father immediately ran outside to find me doubled over in the grass with the window it shards all around me. It didn't take him long to realize I was "Slumber Journeying" again and acted out my dream. He held me close and didn't let me look away from his eyes for a moment. Papa's hot tears fell on my face, my neck, my hair… "I… I'm so s-sorry t-t-the trouble I-I've… caused you Pa-". My stomach burned and my insides felt like small animals were biting at my organs to be free. "Shh, Daughter… don't speak." His voice comforted me in those last moments. I felt so cold… What I would have given to be next to a fire one last time. I leaned my head back and closed my eyes, my body suddenly felt weightless and everything faded away.

Deep in the sorrowful forest, next to a blazing fire to keep warm, a blind woman grinned.


End file.
